


The magic of Solstice

by Savvylicious



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cute holidayish stuff!!, Have a wonderful Holiday!, I did this all on my phone so I'm sorry if the format is whacky, M/M, Stolen Kisses, bad dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8937052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savvylicious/pseuds/Savvylicious
Summary: There's to be an end of the year, celebratory banquet in Erebor, and Bilbo has taken it upon himself to invite a few guests that Thorin doesn't quite approve of.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mistress_Hatter (Midnight_Raine)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Raine/gifts).



“I thought I made it clear; they were not welcome.”

 

Bilbo Baggins took in a steadying breath and turned, crossing both arms over his chest. “Well now, you've certainly placed me in an awkward position, your majesty. I've already sent out the invitations. They'll both be attending.”

 

Thorin’s responding growl might have frightened him before their journey, but now it only made Bilbo want to roll his eyes.

 

“Honestly. They're both kings of your neighboring lands. The very least you can do is invite them to a silly banquet. If I've learnt anything about social standing, it's that you must at least possess a smidge of civil pretense when it comes to your acquaintances. Whether or not you like them at all in fact. Now I might not know how that carries on over in say, dwarven royal affairs and such, but you appointed me as your foreign ambassador. Why? Well, I'm beginning to wonder as you seem to think I'm incompetent. Always questioning my judgement. Lurking about in the shadows, have you really nothing better to do, Thorin?”

 

Scolded, the dwarf frowned, stormy eyes narrowing as he too, folded his arms in a similar state of disapproval. “I do not wish to befriend them. Do we not see enough of them? I've established trade through Dale. That's more than enough.”

 

“I never said you had to be friends! Merely that you have to at least pretend to like them, so as not to seem rude!”

 

Thorin snorted. “What does it matter if they think me rude.”

 

Bilbo could have strangled him, blind fool. “It's not just you anymore now, is it? Your actions speak for all of the dwarves here! Pig headed oaf, get that through your impossibly thick skull, would you? I'm only trying to do what you asked of me.”

 

They glared at each other for a long while, the firelight flickering off their equally stern faces. Some time had passed between them, a year in fact. Thorin had grown into his crown and had shouldered the responsibilities of being the King, and while the rebuilding Erebor had been no small job, now that it was finished, he wished to lock it up tight once more. Which of course, was the exact opposite of what Bilbo thought he should do. Then again, it wasn't exactly his kingdom to head, so he always deferred to Thorin on most issues, despite being told he was within his own right to make decisions on his own. It just seemed as though his first decision had well, been a wrong one.

 

“It's a banquet, Thorin. From what I've read, there'll be dancing and food and music. It's only for a night.” Bilbo finally said, deflating. Confound the stubbornness of dwarves. “I only thought to help.”

 

Thorin felt what anger he had bubbling down. He kept the crease in his brow and sighed with no small amount of self-suffering. “What's done is done then. You will entertain them, Master Baggins.”

 

And with that, the dwarven king stomped out, leaving Bilbo in the rather empty hall to try and come up with a plan on how exactly to politely entertain the kings of elves and men all on his own.

 

***********************

 

“We've been invited to a banquet.”

 

Bard set down his parchment with a sense of awe. Never in his lifetime did he think he would be invited inside the Lonely Mountain for any reason, let alone to socialize and have a party. He glanced to Thranduil, who was as collected as ever. To most, he looked to be no more expressive as ice, but to Bard, he could see the subtle changes of light in his eyes. The elven king was just as surprised as he was, if not even more so. It's not as if relations between their kingdoms and the dwarves had been particularly fruitful, so the notice had come as a bit of a shock.

 

“I know nothing of banquets, let alone dwarven ones! I shall look rather foolish, I think.”

 

Thranduil came back into focus, his lips twitching into a whisper of a smile. “It's a solstice gathering, much like one we celebrate in my kingdom. If I recall correctly, children are gifted with toys and there is food and dancing. It's an incredibly private affair among dwarves.”

 

“Why have we been invited then?”

 

“Why indeed, my dear Bard.” The elf stood, silvery hair fluttering down his shoulders and unto his chest. “You'll bring your children, I’d imagine. They're young enough to partake in the gift parts at least. Tell me, do you know how to dance?”

 

Bard blinked and moved to stand too, albeit not as gracefully. He'd assumed that they wouldn't go, it was not secret how Thranduil felt about their neighbors in the mountains. “Wait-- bring my children? Dancing? We’re-- We’re going?”

 

Thranduil’s eyes sparkled with mirth and he folded his arms into his sleeves. “Why yes, of course we are. It would be rude to refuse. And I am looking so forward to seeing what exactly they have planned for us. And you didn't answer me, dragonslayer. Do you know how to dance?”

 

The man flushed slightly, running a calloused hand through his hair with a quiet grumble.

 

“I thought not. Come, I'll show you. We've much to discuss before we attend.”

 

*****************

 

Breakfast was a quiet affair. None of the Durins had ever much been good conversationalists, and neither had been the Baggins for that matter. Bilbo had been invited over by Dís in order to plan for the banquet, seeing as they were penciling in six new guests and their entourages. She, thank the creators, had a head on her shoulders whereas her brother did not. She saw the sense in extending their hospitality to the kingdoms of Mirkwood and Dale. Now, the five of them sat around the table, nibbling on fruits and veggies and cheeses. The boys weren't at all interested in what their mother and Bilbo were discussing until they brought up the elves, the captain of their guard, and the young prince that would be in attendance. Then they made a show of scooting their chairs over and leaning in to listen. Dís eyed them tiredly and closed the scroll she had been pouring over with the hobbit. 

 

“Absolutely not, boys. If you even think about it....”

 

Confused, Bilbo chewed another bit of fruit and then warily asked; “Think about what?”

 

“My sons think that it is clever to trick people at social gatherings.”

 

Fíli scoffed. “Mother, how could you accuse your own children of such dreadful things?”

 

“What is it you did to Lord Frothar? Paint the stairs with butter so he slid all the way down to the bottom and into the wine barrels?”

 

“It was lard--” Kíli interjected with, earning himself an elbow to the ribs from his brother.

 

“We were kids back then! We would never pull such a thing now that we're grown up.”

 

“--And princes!”

 

“Yes.” Fíli said with a nod, looking his best to appear important, despite the sleep-mussed hair and droopy eyes. “Respected princes!”

 

Thorin snorted into his goblet, and Bilbo felt his own face twitch with mirth. Dís waved a finger at the two of them, voice stern.

 

“If you pull any such mischief, I promise you both a reckoning. You'll never be too big to throw over my knee.”

 

The boys paled and pushed away from the table simultaneously. Promising solemnly that they would be on their very best behaviour.

 

But no one but them knew about the fingers they had crossed behind their backs.

 

**********

 

The night of the Solstice arrived and Tilda was the most excited for it. She sat bouncing in the wagon the townsfolk had built for them and could not keep the smile off of her face. She had a brand new dress and her hair had been done up in curls and she thought she looked just like a princess. Even though she knew she already was one. With a kick of her feet, she knocked shoulders with Bain as they were driven up the winding path to Erebor. Similarly dressed, Sigrid laughed and shook her head, nudging her younger sister in an effort to get her to settle down. 

 

“I want you all on your best behaviours tonight, is that clear?”

 

Bard sat at the front, wearing a fine tunic and leggings, dark red and black and with a fine looking coat to match. A fine sight for a man, if he had anything to say about it. The silver crown around his head was a formality really, he never wore it in Dale, and had almost snuck out of the estate without it on before the nobles had noticed. They wanted to make a good impression with the dwarves, not that Bard thought a crown would make any kind of difference.

 

His children nodded and responded with a chorus of; “Yes da.” For which he was grateful. 

 

When the wagon stopped, he was the first out, followed by Bain, and was about to help his daughters down when he was surprised by the dwarven princes.

 

“Hail, King Bard! And good evening, ladies.”

 

They said with a bow, much to his and Bain’s bewilderment. The older of the two offered an arm to Sigrid, which she took with a blush, and Tilda practically jumped on the younger. Escorted in like a real lady! Why, she was beside herself.

 

While Thorin was not there to meet them, Bilbo and another dwarf was. He watched as the princes led the girls up and into the hall and then he and his companion made their way over to Bard and Bain, bowing in a similar manner. 

 

“Welcome, King Bard. And to you, Prince Bain.”

 

“Hullo, Master Baggins.” Bain breathed shyly, wringing his fingers together. “A-And to you, Master Dwarf…”

 

“That’d be mistress, lad. But thanks all the same. I am Dís.”

 

Both Bard and Bain blushed, apologies quick on their tongues, but she held up her hand and silenced them before they could speak. She regarded Bain with a pointed look, and he floundered for a moment before offering his arm to her, which she took with a smile. He led her up the way his sisters and her sons had went, looking back over at his father for a moment with a look of nervous panic on his face. 

 

“We-- ah, we weren't expecting to be greeted.” Bard said stiffly.

 

“Oh come now, Thorin might be so rude, but I am not.” Bilbo looked well in his half dwarvish, half hobbit attire, somehow bringing the two styles together fashionably. He smiled up at Bard, arms folded behind his back. “I invited you, and it's my responsibility to make sure you feel welcome. Your children look very dashing.”

 

“Thank you. I wasn't sure if bringing them was appropriate-- but Lord Thranduil insisted. He says this holiday is more for children and family…?”

 

“Yes, you're very right. It's an occasion where friends and family come together, and I thought it fitting to invite you and Thranduil as well. You both had a heavy hand in restoring Erebor. No one here has forgotten.”

 

Bard felt his chest swell with gratitude. It was one thing to imply thanks, but another thing entirely to hear it. He cleared his throat and did not try to hide the smile that bloomed onto his face. 

 

“There aren't many dwarven children, at least not yet anyway, so I imagine yours will be spoilt rotten.”

 

“Really? How--’

 

But the sound of an elk cut him off, and Thranduil rode up on his mount, a bit overdressed for the occasion, as always. His son and Tauriel rode behind him, a small chest between them. They dismounted and crossed over to Bard and Bilbo silently.

 

“Welcome, King Thranduil! Prince Legolas. Mistress Tauriel. Happy Solstice!”

 

“Happy Solstice, Bilbo Baggins.” Thranduil breathed in return, the three of them bowing their heads. 

 

“Well then, now that we’re all here, let's go in, shall we? My toes have grown rather stiff from all this cold!”

 

**********

 

The inside of the hall was still gold plated, much to Thorin’s distaste, but it did make everything seem much warmer and well-lit now that it was decorated appropriately. He observed the masses from the very end of the grand hall, near the throne, but far enough away such as was polite. He tried to appear interested as some borish noble from Ered Luin talked his ear off about their neighbors attending a dwarven gathering, but was not so subtly eyeing his hobbit and their newly arrived guests. Thranduil and his troop did not stray much from Bilbo’s side, and they were given a wide berth from most of the dwarves, which was expected but still somehow left a sour taste in his mouth. He knew it was irrational to be so prejudiced against them, but could not let go of the resentment he felt for all the years he and his people had suffered. 

 

Deep down, there was a part of him that understood Bilbo’s reasoning for inviting them, much as he denied it, and he couldn't dispute that it had been a tactical move on the former burglar’s part. He really needed to stop underestimating that hobbit.

 

The day after was more for private family meetings, so the food had been placed on tables with the implication that one could grab a platter and go. 

 

The Bardlings, who had never seen so much food in one place at once practically drooled at the sight of it. With Bard’s permission, they had been allowed to scamper off and explore so long as they minded their manners and were polite. They'd lost their dwarven escorts, but were not not exactly short of any dwarves, and much to their joy, seem to be very well received. Tilda remembered Bofur, and screeched with joy at the toy he had made for her; a new doll to replace the one she'd lost in the fire. Any plans he might have had for the evening were dashed as she decided to cling to him and remain there for the rest of the night. 

 

Bard himself was in a great mood. He was actually interested in hearing all that Bilbo had learnt about the dwarves and their traditions, and even shared his own when asked about what the men did for solstice. When Thranduil pitched in his, it seemed that all of them had similar themes; that being revolved around children and spending time with loved ones. They ate and drank and hardly noticed that not many dwarves came to offer their greetings. Legolas and Tauriel were quiet observers, but did pull themselves away when they spotted the two dwarven princes sneaking off back around the tables.

 

It was halfway through the evening that the three of them found themselves in a quiet alcove, lit by candles and strung with festive plants. Thanduil had lost the ever present chill in his face and Bard was smiling ear from ear. Bilbo thought it suited them very much, and excused himself for a moment. They sipped their wine and watched the party-goers quietly, talking quietly about nothing so consequential. It was Bard who noticed the mistletoe above their heads and stared at it for a long while. Thranduil followed his gaze and he too regarded it quietly.

 

“What is it our dear hobbit said again?” The elf murmured, looking almost spellbound. 

 

“Hm?” Bard mumbled back, turning to Thranduil, puzzled.

 

“About mistletoe. He said that once under it, the two people are to do something.”

 

“O-Oh--” the man stuttered, brows furrowing. “That's a-- A hobbit thing.”

 

“What is?” Thranduil said, feigning innocence.

 

“Kissing… Under the mistletoe.”

 

“Hm… I see.” Though, he didn't seem all that convincing. He leaned towards Bard and tipped his chin down. “We wouldn't want to be inconsiderate of his traditions, after he so graciously invited us to this soiree.”

 

Bard blushed all the way down to his navel and blamed the wine for Thranduil’s forwardness. “N-Not at all! But I'm-- And you're-- And this is---”

 

Thranduil silenced him with a soft kiss, his lips no more pressing than a butterfly perched on a flower. It was over and done with before Bard could even register it, and the next thing he knew the glass was taken from his hands and he was behind led out of the balcony. Someone had started up the music and several people were poising to dance. 

 

“We're a bit large for anyone here, so you'll have to be my company for the evening, bowman. Remember what we practised.”

 

And before he could even protest, or comment on the kiss, Thranduil was positioning him into a formal waltz, and they were spinning round the room, a graceful blur of silk and fur.

 

**********

 

Glad for the dance, Thorin took his leave from the nobles and took shelter from the masses behind a pillar. He rubbed under his eyes and sighed, muttering nonsense in Khuzdul to clear his head. 

 

“Enjoying yourself?”

 

Thorin cursed loudly and was halfway to his weapon when Bilbo held up his hands in surrender, a sweet roll dangling from his mouth.

 

“Peace, Thorin! You're the one that interrupted my break.”

 

The dwarf blinked, and then smoldered, squaring his shoulders. “Break? What are you possibly doing that requires a break?”

 

Bilbo scoffed, face scrunching up. “Oh, I don't know. Steering Bard and Thranduil away from anyone and everyone that has been whispering nasty things behind our backs all evening? Entertaining not one-- but two kings by myself when I've no experience doing it? Why didn't you tell anyone that they would be here, Thorin. You've known for almost two weeks!”

 

“I did not tell them because then they would not have come.”

 

“Really? None of them would have come?”

 

Thorin set his jaw and turned his steely gaze to the hobbit's buttons. “Most of them.”

 

“Thorin.”

 

He sighed. “Some of them. I don't know. You wouldn't understand.”

 

“Oh I wouldn't?” Bilbo sounded more hurt than upset. He angrily shoved the rest of his sweet into his mouth and fumed. “How am I supposed to understand if no one will tell me?”

 

At that, Thorin matched their eyes again, his gaze softening.

 

“Everyone I've spoken to has said that Solstice is a time for everyone to come together. Family, yes, but friends as well. Last year we hardly had anything to celebrate, not counting our lives. Dale was in shambles, Erebor just as ruined, and Mirkwood helped as best as it could. We survived, but there was no joy. I only thought that now, now that we are all settled in and comfortable, we could take a moment to comlle together and commemorate that which we protected.”

 

Speechless, Thorin felt rightfully shamed. 

 

“The Misty Mountains are home to all of you, dwarves, elves, and men alike. I'm the only one who doesn't belong here, Thorin. But if you can make room for me, can't you make room for them too?”

 

Bilbo fidgeted after his rant, having lost all his steam about halfway through his little tirade. He had quite the temper on him when he wanted to. He half expected to be scolded, or have the dwarf stomp off on him like he usually did, but he was not anticipating the hand on his shoulder, and the feel of a forehead on his own.

 

“Bilbo Baggins, how is it I dishonor myself and my kingdom every time I do not listen to your words?”

 

Spluttering, the hobbit was about to quip back with something witty when a large thumb pressed over his lips and shushed him.

 

“You speak the truth. This holiday is about coming together and giving to those we care for. In my resentment, I lost sight of that. I am sorry. Do you forgive me?”

 

Bilbo rolled his eyes and managed to puff a squished; yes, from under Thorin's thumb. They stayed like that for a while, blue watching brown fondly until the sound of someone clearing their throat caught their attention.

 

Kíli, Fíli, Legolas and Tauriel greeted them, dripping something syrupy and covered from head to toe in feathers. The sight was enough to give Bilbo a laughing fit and he doubled over while Thorin searched for any kind of words to say.

 

“We do not mean to interrupt, your majesty,” Tauriel said, voice shaking somewhat. “But we'd very much appreciate… A bath before we return to Mirkwood.”

 

Legolas nodded stiffly in agreement while the dwarven princes were busy trying to make themselves as small as possible. Still unable to comment, Thorin only pointed in the direction of the public baths and watched them in complete silence as they trudged past him, leaving mucky footprints behind them.

 

“So-so-so that's the prank?! Molasses and chicken feathers--- Oh Thorin-- I'm going to cry!”

“Those two will be crying later when I flay them, that's for certain.” Thorin grumbled, angry to have his moment with Bilbo ruined by his nephews.

 

“Oh, I think they've learnt their lesson Thorin. Think how hard it will be to wash their beards. Might even have to cut them.”

 

“That would be a severe punishment indeed.”

 

Bilbo straightened and slicked down his curls, wheezing out his last bit of laughter. He turned to Thorin and folded his arms behind his back. “Right then, I'd better get back to Bard and Thranduil then.”

 

“Bilbo--” Thorin said before he could stop himself. “I…. Hmn. Master Baggins, would you… Join me for a dance?”

 

Shocked, the hobbit regarded Thorin's arm curiously for a moment before slipping a cautious hand in and stepping closer. “I'm afraid I don't know any dwarven dances, your grace.”

 

“Better you didn't, because I am terrible myself.”

 

Bilbo snorted but followed Thorin’s lead into the floor. People made way for them, and they were surprised to see Bard and Thranduil in the middle of the throng.

 

“Now there's a sight I hadn't thought to see!”

“Looks like they're getting along well without you.”

 

“Well indeed. I didn't think the mistletoe would work.”

 

As they moved into the stance, Thorin’s brow furrowed. “What about mistletoe?”

 

“Hm?” Bilbo said, nonchalantly putting his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “Oh, nothing, nothing. Just a silly hobbit tradition.”

 

“Will I be learning about this tradition in the near future?”

  
“Well, that depends on how the rest of the evening goes, master dwarf. Particularly on whether or not you happen step on my toes.”


End file.
